


Maybe your mother made the direwolves appear

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Stark children, direwolf pups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8364274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon and Sansa keep their distance during the days at Winterfell. Every once in a while, though, their direwolf pups bring them together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a "Stark children" themed one-shot written for "Jonsa Week" on tumblr. I'm on tumblr as myrish-lace-love if you want to say hi! :)

Lady whined, her sweet yellow eyes fixed on Sansa.

Sansa sighed, and put down the doublet she’d been mending for Bran. “Hungry again?”

When Bran had run shrieking back into Winterfell’s courtyard, Summer wriggling in his grip, Sansa had her doubts about the direwolves. But the minute Robb put Lady in her arms, she was in love. Lady was the gentlest and smallest of the wolves, though they’d all expected Ghost to be the runt of the litter. Even Jon was surprised the first day Ghost wrestled Grey Wind to the ground.

Sansa and Jon hardly spoke. When Jon crossed her path in the halls of Winterfell, he usually averted his eyes. Sansa took pains to call him her “half-brother”. Arya and Jon were thick as thieves, but Sansa felt she had to keep her distance. She’d seen her mother gaze coldly at Jon when he sat at the far table in the great hall. Jon’s presence angered her mother, for reasons Sansa didn’t understand, but she was a loyal child and usually took on her mother’s opinions as her own.

Sansa put her blue hood up against the cold as she hurried Lady to the kennels. The fresh-fallen snow softened the sound of her footsteps. Even so, she knew she had to be quick. The kennel master tolerated their wolves at the order of Lord Stark, but he had no love for them, and kept his strips of dried meat tightly covered in wooden barrels. “Winterfell’s supplies are for Winterfell’s hounds. Get those beasts to hunt their own food.”

The hinges of the gates squeaked behind her. Lady knew what this trip was about, and trotted over to the barrels stacked atop each other, like wine casks in the hay. Sansa had been surprised the first time she came here that the dogs didn’t howl, but the hounds steered clear of Lady and the rest of her litter mates.

She heard a muttered curse and stumbled backwards, catching her cape on the metal latch. Who was with them? Sansa wished she’d thought to bring a lantern. The moon’s light revealed two shadows hovering near Lady. Lady was calm, though, and Sansa slowly relaxed. Her direwolf was always the first to warn her when danger was near.

“Hello? Who’s there?” She was proud her voice wavered only a little.

“Sansa? Is that you?” Jon, she thought. They’d met this way a few times in the past months as the pups grew larger. Lady had brought down five rabbits last week, and Ghost had dragged a small deer out of the woods only yesterday, leaving a trail of red in the snow, but the wolves were constantly looking for food.  
Lady and Ghost touched noses briefly. They were a well-matched pair, with the same soft white fur. Ghost stood almost a shoulder taller than Lady, but he didn’t push her out of the way like Shaggydog did. Rickon’s wolf was wild, and made Lady skittish. Ghost’s red eyes and silent snarl had frightened Sansa at first, but Lady seemed most comfortable running alongside Ghost, and Sansa and Jon had even exchanged a few jokes about their companions.

Sansa was close enough to see Jon’s breath in the night air now. “Yes, it’s just me, Jon. Lady’s -“

“Let me guess, hungry again.” Jon gave her a rueful smile.

“Ghost too?”

Jon sighed. “You’d think a whole deer would be enough to keep him happy for a few days at least. No such luck. Help me with the lid?”

Sansa was relieved Jon had arrived first, truth be told. Sometimes she had to spend a half-hour in the cold, prying the top off the barrel with a heavy stick. The two of them could make short work of it, and be back inside sooner. They both grabbed on to the handle. “At least I remembered gloves this time.” Sansa smiled at Jon. She’d tried to wrench the top free bare-handed her first trip, and ended up frost-bitten for her trouble. She hadn’t been able to get the lid back on, and she’d nursed her fingers the next day. Jon hadn’t said a word when she’d dropped her glass at dinner. Sansa had been mortified as she watched the cider spill on the tablecloth and the goblet clatter to the floor. She’d muttered some excuse to the guests about her clumsiness. Later that night she’d found a small jar of salve outside her chamber door. She wasn’t sure it had been Jon, until he’d mumbled a question about whether her hand felt better.

Jon’s mouth turned up at the corner. “Good choice. On three?” Sansa nodded. They heaved in unison. Lady and Ghost trotted up and started gulping down the meat.

“Eat too much and I won’t bring you back, you hear?” Jon’s voice was gentle as he held Ghost by the scruff. Sansa didn’t need to hold Lady back; she looked almost dainty as she chewed.

Now that their shared task was over, Jon fell quiet. Sansa felt the need to make some kind of conversation, no matter how strange their circumstances. She glanced over at Jon.

“Bran told me,” she blurted.

“Told you what?” Jon’s eyes were the darkest shade of grey in the dim light.

Sansa flushed. “How you convinced Father to let us keep the direwolves. You said it was a sign from the gods that there were five pups, one for each of his tr-trueborn children.” She stumbled over the end of the sentence. She hadn’t realized it might sound cruel.

Jon made a wry face. “You’re welcome. Turns out I was wrong, though.” He stroked Ghost’s fur.

“Well, thank you all the same. I’m so glad to have Lady. Even if she does drag me out in the middle of the night. And you’re happy to have Ghost, I’m sure.”

Jon hesitated. “Sometimes I feel like I cheated, ending up with him. I’m not a Stark, after all.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to believe in magic, Jon, right? You rescued a litter of six from the woods, and we’re all better for it.” Away from the castle, her mother’s shadow didn’t weigh as heavily on her, and she wanted Jon to feel welcome, at least were their direwolves were concerned. Sansa squeezed Jon’s free hand. Jon froze. They stood together for a long moment before he squeezed her hand back briefly.

“All right, you great beast, that’s enough for tonight. Come on.” Jon pulled Ghost away and helped Sansa wrangle the barrel shut.

Winterfell’s turrets stood out against the stars in the night sky as Jon and Sansa headed back to the safety of the stone walls. Sansa knew Jon would turn left soon, towards his chambers in a separate part of the castle. How lonely, to be a bastard son, she thought. Tomorrow she and Jon would step past each other in the halls again.

“Jon?”

“Hm?”

“Maybe...maybe your mother wanted you to find Ghost. Maybe she sent you out into the woods that day, so all the Stark children would have direwolves to watch over them.” Sansa knew she sounded foolish.

Jon smirked. “Are you sure that’s not from one of your songs?”

“Perhaps it is. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true, does it?”

“...It’s kind of you to say so.” Jon looked weary, and ready for bed. “Good night, Sansa.”

“Good night, Jon. I’ll see you next time these two are hungry.” Sansa watched Jon’s figure recede, Ghost at his side. She sent a silent wish after him, that he might sleep easy tonight, and dream about his own mother. She resolved to be a little kinder to Jon, if she could. Jon may not have known his mother, but Sansa was certain she must have loved him very much.


End file.
